


Let’s Share This Mountain Air

by poppyfields13



Series: If Not Now, When? [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Camping, Food, Hiking, Journey, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve, Thru-hike, appalachian trail, backpacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyfields13/pseuds/poppyfields13
Summary: Steve’s plan was to hike from Georgia to Maine alone. He didn't plan to meet someone like Bucky and hike the trail with him, but it turned out to be the best thing that could have happened. And he learned more about himself than he ever expected to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have never hiked the Appalachian Trail (but I want to!), I just did a LOT of research for this. Please forgive anything that’s not quite right in terms of location descriptions etc. 
> 
> Warning: There is a lot of overeating and food mentions in this fic. 
> 
> Thanks to Tinzelda for the beta!

“You can still back out. There’s no shame in it.”

“I know, Sam. But I have to do this.”

“Yeah... I know.” He nudged Steve on the shoulder. 

Steve had been so determined, so focussed on this for months, but now that it was finally here, he didn’t feel ready. Preparing and planning for the trip – it had always felt so far away. Now that he was here, he was terrified, though he would never admit it to Sam. 

A voice came over the speaker, announcing Steve’s flight was ready for boarding. He picked up the pack he had lying at his feet. Sam reached out to help him.

“I got it,” he said. If he was going to carry the thing 2,185 miles then he might as well get used to it now. Sam gave him that look he’d been giving him ever since Steve first told him what he planned to do. The “okay, but I think you’re crazy” look. 

Steve heaved the pack onto his back. “Well... bye.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “I’m worried. But I'm proud.” Then he pulled Steve into a crushing hug. 

Steve let himself squeeze back, just for a moment. Then he hurried to his gate. He didn’t want to look back. He was scared if he did he might change his mind about leaving. But right as he stepped onto the jet bridge, he turned to see Sam still standing there. He waved. Steve took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and boarded the plane. 

**Georgia**

It was an eight-mile hike to the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail from Amicalola falls. And it just about killed him. 

_You can do this. You can do this. _Steve told himself as he climbed. He’d trained so hard before he left, but that didn’t seem to make a bit of difference. He hadn’t been sick in ages and was at the height of his physical health. But it still took everything he had to put one foot in front of the other.__

It took him a lot longer than he anticipated. When he finally huffed and puffed to the summit of Springer Mountain, he looked out at the view and couldn’t help but think at least it was worth it. He took several photos of the view, then took a photo of the bronze plaque that announced the start of the trail. He texted it to Sam. He received a response only a few seconds later: “Woohoo!”

He walked to the hiker register and glanced over what other people had written. He supposed he should have prepared something of gravitas to say, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to write. 

He knew why he was doing this – why he’d taken a whole year off art school, sold all his stuff, and had been living on Sam’s couch for the last month. His dad had hiked the trail in his youth and told stories about it before he died, which Steve then heard from his mom. She always said she wanted to do it too one day, with Steve, but one of them had always been too sick or too busy working. Now she was gone, only six months ago, and since then Steve hadn’t been able to think of anything else. He couldn’t go on with his life without doing this.

Eventually he wrote, “For Ma – Steve Rogers.”

It was Thursday the eighth of March.

Just then, a voice short of breath appeared at his ear. “Hello.”

Steve turned to see a guy who looked about the same age as him. He had brown hair poking out from underneath a maroon coloured beanie, and was wearing a cocky grin on his face, which was flushed pink with exertion. 

“Hi,” Steve said.

“Are you thru-hiking the AT?”

“Yes. I mean, I plan too,” Steve said.

“Cool, me too.” He held out his hand for the pen that was still clutched in Steve’s hand. He handed it over. 

“What’s your trail name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You need a trail name. Mine’s Winter Soldier.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been known to go hiking in winter a lot, I guess.” He peered at the book Steve had just signed. “So, Steve Rogers, you're from New York, aren't you? So am I. I can always tell. My real name is James Buchanan Barnes, by the way. But everyone calls me Bucky. ”

Steve didn’t think Bucky sounded like a very New York name. “I’m from Brooklyn,” was all he could think of to say. He was itching to get away.

Bucky looked Steve up and down, then looked doubtfully at his overstuffed pack. Steve noted that Bucky’s pack looked considerably smaller than his. Embarrassed, Steve looked down at what Bucky had written in the register. 

_All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost. – J.R.R. Tolkien. ___

“Shall we?” Bucky said, gesturing in the direction of the shelter. 

Steve didn’t really want to walk the rest of the way with this stranger but it wasn't very far, about 400 yards down a blue blaze trail, so he couldn’t really say no. He nodded, and they started walking.

Bucky chatted about how hard the hike up was. “Those stairs,” he said, “man, they were tough.”

Steve agreed but didn’t say much else.

“This is the easy part though. I heard New Hampshire and Maine are a nightmare. It's gonna get harder! Here we are,” he said with finality. 

There wasn’t any space in the shelter, and Steve was secretly glad about it. He didn’t feel like socialising. He waited to see where Bucky set up his tent – already claiming his next conversational victim, a dark haired girl – then moved further away. He cooked some macaroni and cheese then went straight to sleep.

When he woke up early the next day, every muscle in his body ached. He could barely move. The only way he could convince himself to climb out of the sleeping bag was by telling himself he wouldn’t always feel like this. Despite what that Bucky guy said, it would get easier. He just had to get used to it. 

He shoved half a granola bar into his mouth and quickly packed up his tent. He gritted his teeth through the pain and heaved his pack back on. He wanted to leave before anyone else – he needed the head start. 

Every step he took hurt. His legs felt like jelly, like they could collapse underneath him at any second, and his back was in agony. He wasn’t sure how he could continue in this much pain, but he had too. He wouldn't give up.

As the hours passed, he trudged along staring at his feet, without taking in his surroundings. Every so often he remembered to look around and take in the scenery, and it actually helped. Just pausing to take in the natural beauty was calming. Several people caught up to him, and they exchanged pleasantries, but they always passed him. 

After a period of staring at his feet too long, he became disorientated, and the trail was suddenly not so clear. He looked around for a white blaze but didn’t see anything. He stopped, took his pack off, and pulled out his map.

As he was examining it, Bucky Barnes appeared. “It’s this way,” he said pointing. 

“Thanks,” Steve said, and buried his nose further in his map, as if that wasn’t exactly what he’d been trying to figure out. Steve hoped Bucky would take the hint and leave, but he just stood there. Eventually, Steve put the map away and put his pack back on.

Bucky walked along beside him. “Do you want a buddy?” he asked.

“No, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure? Not just to Neels Gap even?”

“Nope.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else but continued to walk alongside Steve for another few minutes. When the pathway became too narrow he moved ahead. “Later,” he said with a wave.

“Bye.”

He watched as Bucky strode along the trail, his pace speeding up, until he went down a hill and out of Steve’s sight.

♡

The next time he saw Bucky was two days later. Steve was walking up Big Cedar Mountain when he rounded a corner and found him perched on a giant rock.

“Beautiful day, ain't it,” Bucky said in an exaggerated southern drawl. He jumped down. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Steve said. Well, it had been fine up until a moment ago. Had Bucky been waiting for him? He couldn’t tell whether Bucky was just really friendly or creepy. 

“So, is there a reason you're out here? What made you decide to do this?” Bucky asked as he fell into step beside Steve.

“I don't want to talk about that,” Steve said. 

“Well, that’s okay, we can talk about something else.”

“No, thanks,” Steve said, then immediately felt bad about being so rude. His mom would’ve been shocked.

Not seeming to notice, Bucky continued talking. “I've done small sections of the trail before, but never the whole thing. What about you?”

Steve sighed. “It’s my first time on the AT.”

Bucky nodded. “Cool. I’m going to do the PCT next year. I can’t wait to see Yosemite. Have you ever been to Yosemite?”

“I'm taking a break,” Steve said, ignoring the question. He laid down his trekking poles and took off his pack.

He saw Bucky’s eyes roam over his small stature and felt self conscious. And defensive. He sat down and pulled out his sketchpad. Maybe if he waited long enough, Bucky would leave.

The view was spectacular, and he got so wrapped up in drawing, he forgot Bucky was still there until he spoke. “Wow, you're good at that.”

Steve ignored him. He watched from the corner of his eye as Bucky pulled out a snack packet of Oreos from his pocket and opened it. He held it out to Steve. “Want one?”

He kind of did, but he shook his head. Bucky shrugged and popped a cookie into his mouth. Then he just stood there eating while Steve kept drawing.

“Sure you don’t want a buddy?” Bucky finally asked.

“I’m sure,” Steve said, not looking up. 

“Okay, well, see ya.”

 _What a strange guy_ , Steve thought as he watched Bucky walk away.

By late afternoon, Steve’s pace had slowed down considerably. His stomach growled. He wished he’d taken that cookie Bucky had offered. 

His pack was too heavy. He wasn’t going to survive if he carried on like this. He needed to get rid of some stuff. As soon as he got to Neels Gap, he was going to be brutal about weeding his pack’s contents. 

It took all of the energy he had left to put up his tent. He stuffed some beef jerky into his mouth, then he fell into his sleeping bag and was dead to the world.

♡

As Steve walked into Neels Gap he felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. It was a feeling that was rare to him and he savoured the moment.

Of course, he wasn’t that surprised when he ran into Bucky Barnes at the Mountain Crossings Outfitters. He was at the register buying something and waved at Steve when he entered.

Steve nodded politely and made a beeline for one of the staff members. A pretty woman with dark hair. 

“Hi. Uh… I need help with my pack,” he said. “It’s too heavy. I heard that maybe you could help…?”

“Sure, I’ll help you,” she said. “I’m Maria.”

“Steve.”

He could feel Bucky watching them as Maria led him outside, and to Steve’s dismay, he followed. He leaned against the doorframe eating a bag of chips as Steve unpacked his gear and Maria examined it. Then he started offering advice.

“You’re carrying too many clothes – you only need two pairs of underwear.”

Steve screwed up his nose. “Ew.”

“He’s right,” Maria said. “You don't need to send all your clothes home though, you can just put them in a bounce box for later.”

“And only carry as much food as you can eat for the time you’re on the trail,” Bucky said. “You don’t need that much. Just keep resupplying.”

“I like to be prepared,” Steve said.

“In case of what? A zombie apocalypse?”

Maria laughed.

“There could be a blizzard or something…” he trailed off, feeling foolish.

When they were done, he dumped his discarded items regretfully in the hiker box – a place to leave things in case other hikers wanted them. His pack was a lot lighter though. After a cold drink, a sandwich, and a hot shower, he was back out on the trail again.

♡

Steve had never heard birds chirping so loudly before. It seemed like there must've been millions of them, but he barely saw one. They were all hiding in the trees. He realised noticing such things meant it was becoming easier. He was no longer only thinking about being in pain. Every now and then he stopped to take photographs or to just breathe in the mountain air.

Although the evenings were a relief after a long day of nothing but walking, if he wasn’t too tired, anxiety could often creep into his consciousness. Mostly, he worried if he could really do this, but other times, just the slightest noise caused him to jump and wonder about all the things that could be out there, lurking in the dark. 

That night, Steve awoke to a scuffling sound outside his tent and terror washed over him. Ever since he'd seen _The Revenant_ he was convinced he would face a bear attack on this trip. It had come sooner than he’d expected, but this was it, he was going to be mauled by a bear. 

He waited a moment, and the scuffling disappeared. He stuck his head out of his tent and shone his headlamp out. Then he saw it. A skunk waddled back into the trees. A skunk. He felt like an idiot.

He was exhausted the next day, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. By four o’clock he gave up for the day and by five he was asleep. 

After sleeping for 12 hours straight, he awoke early. It was still quite dark and very foggy that morning. The wind was biting, but he had dragged the day before and wanted to make up some time. Shivering, he ate his breakfast, packed up his gear, and started walking, hoping that the exercise would provide him with some warmth. 

Several hours passed, and Steve realised he’d thought he would enjoy the solitude a lot more than he had so far. Listening to music and audiobooks helped – he’d finally gotten around to listening to the _Hamilton_ soundtrack and had just started listening to David McCullough’s _1776_ – but he was now trying to save the last bit of power on his phone. He was thinking about whether he should purchase a better external battery at the next town when he walked into a clearing and came across a tent with a foot dangling out of it. 

He knew instantly who it was. He walked up to the tent and kicked the foot lightly. The foot retracted and a second later a head popped out and grinned at him. Steve did not smile back. When had Bucky passed him?

“You know, if we keep meeting like this, seems kind of silly not to pair up,” Bucky said, still grinning.

“Are you stalking me?” Steve asked. 

“Do I look like a stalker to you?”

“Stalkers don't have a specific _look_. They could be anybody. You could be a serial killer and this is your MO, stalking people on the AT. It's kind of perfect, no one to hear their screams. Plenty of places to stash a body.”

Bucky raised his eyebrow. “You've thought about this a lot. How do I know you're not planning on killing _me_?”

“That's exactly what a serial killer would say.”

“Uh huh. I'll let you know if I develop any homicidal tendencies. In the meantime,” he shrugged, suddenly looking shy, “I just want someone to talk to.”

That did actually sound nice. 

Steve thought back shamefully to the day where he'd wallowed in self pity for a full hour because he was asthmatic. All because he'd thought if he didn't have to carry his inhaler his pack would be lighter, when in reality, his inhaler weighed next to nothing. 

Maybe he wasn't as ready as he thought he was to be so in his own head. Maybe he wanted someone to talk to too.

“Well fine then, but I plan on doing twelve more miles today, so we better get going.”

Bucky grinned again. “Give me ten minutes.”

After half an hour with Bucky, Steve was already regretting his decision. No wonder Bucky wanted someone to talk to – apparently he was incapable of shutting up. He’d tried again to ask Steve why he was hiking the AT, and again Steve had hedged the question. 

“Why are _you_ doing the AT anyway? You keep asking me.”

“If not now, when?” Bucky said.

“That’s not an explanation.”

“Watch out!” He stuck his arm out in front of Steve. “Snake.”

Steve peered around Bucky’s shoulder. It was a timber rattlesnake. They walked backwards and veered off the trail to give it a wide berth.

“It probably came out to see what all the racket was,” Steve said.

“What racket?”

“You. Jabbering.” 

“I do not _jabber_.”

“You do. In fact, you don’t ever stop.”

Bucky huffed and turned back to the trail. They didn’t speak for hours until, well into the afternoon, Bucky said, “Twelve miles is a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”

Steve was relieved. He immediately agreed they should stop and make camp.

“You know, you can’t just expect to do twenty miles a day straight away. You have to work up to it.”

“I know that,” Steve snapped. He dumped his pack on the ground.

It had been unusually cold the last few days and Steve’s hands were chapped and sore. He hadn't thought to bring gloves and the cold air was affecting them. He could barely undo the straps on his pack. 

“Here, let me get that,” Bucky said. He watched as Bucky undid his pack and pulled out his tent. 

“Thanks,” Steve mumbled. He hesitated. “I’m… I’m sorry for saying you jabber. I don’t really mind.” He’d kind of missed it after Bucky had stopped talking. 

Bucky smiled. “I know I can be a bit… too loud sometimes.”

“No, you're fine. It’s just me. I’m usually a lot nicer. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

He’d thought he was doing this to be alone, but maybe that wasn’t really what he wanted. Maybe he’d already spent too much of his life being alone. There was something inherently likeable about Bucky, Steve wasn't really sure why Bucky wanted to latch onto him when he could probably buddy up with anyone. But he didn’t want to take that for granted.

“You can jabber as much as you want,” he said. 

**North Carolina**

Bucky talked incessantly about food, which Steve _did_ find particularly annoying, though he tried not to show it. 

“I wish I had a cheeseburger right now.”

“Cheeseburgers attract bears,” Steve said. 

“I think it's more likely that we’ll be abducted by aliens, than be attacked by a bear,” Bucky said. “Or we’ll just get Lyme disease.”

Steve shook his head and laughed. 

After that first day together, they had fallen quite easily into a pleasant camaraderie. They had even developed a night time routine. After changing into their camp clothes, Steve made their dinner while Bucky hung up their bear bags. Then they set up their tents, and after they ate, they brushed their teeth together and put their toothpaste back in the bear bags. 

One day, as they set up their camp, a guy named Bruce arrived and asked if he could camp with them. After just an hour with Bruce, he had somehow gotten Bucky into doing yoga with him. 

“Come on, Steve!” Bucky said. “This is a good idea. Stretching helps with preventing injuries. Right, Bruce?”

“It does,” Bruce agreed.

Reluctantly, Steve got to the ground and followed Bruce's instructions, though it surprised him how challenging it was. They went from plank, to downward dog, to warrior, until they ended with their palms in prayer position. 

“Namaste,” said Bruce.

“Namaste,” said Steve and Bucky. Then Steve caught Bucky’s eye and saw he was trying not to laugh. He winked at Steve.

Steve scowled at him but had to excuse himself, saying he needed to use the bathroom. He walked into the trees and laughed.

♡

At the next town, a guy called Phil Coulson let hikers sleep in his backyard. He even gave Steve and Bucky a couple of cold beers, and he let Steve charge his phone and external battery.

Steve had his tent flap open and was about to listen to his audiobook for a while before he went to sleep, when Bucky poked his head in.

“Hey. What’re you listening to?” 

Steve turned the phone to show Bucky the book cover on the screen. 

“You’re joking. You listen to that for fun?”

“It’s interesting.”

“I didn’t realise you were so… patriotic.”

Steve felt his face burning up. “I'm not the one named after a president,” he said.

Bucky laughed. “True. Well, goodnight.”

“Night.”

They were back on the trail early the next day. Bucky had been indulging in Steve’s desire to be a “purist” – he wanted to see every white blaze on the trail. Which meant they had to get back on the trail precisely where they got off. 

“Okay, Captain America,” Bucky said, “lead the way.” Then he looked at Steve with wide eyes. “Oh my god. That’s it. That’s your trail name.”

“Huh?”

“Captain America!”

Steve looked at him in horror. “Bucky, no. _No_.”

Bucky grinned devilishly. “Oh yes.”

♡

They came across a creek with a dodgy looking log laid across it as a makeshift bridge. “Here,” Bucky said, “hand me your pack.”

“No, I got it.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue, but he could clearly tell by the look on Steve’s face that he would too, so he just frowned and said nothing. Steve watched as Bucky swiftly made his way across the log and turned to watch Steve, poised to help him off at the end. Steve stepped onto the log. He put his right foot forward and wobbled. He stuck his arms out to help him balance and took another step.

Then he was underwater, with bubbles swirling above him. He sprang up, sputtering. “Ahhhhh!”

He heard splashing and suddenly Bucky was there with a horrified look on his face. “Steve! Are you okay?”

“It’s freezing!” Steve yelled.

Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm and hauled him over to the side. He climbed up, then took both of Steve’s arms to help pull him out. When they were both lying on the edge of the creek, he started laughing. “Well, you _were_ in need of a bath,” he said.

“It’s not funny! My pack’s all wet.”

They stood up and started taking everything out of Steve’s pack to examine the damage. Luckily, he’d only been in the water for a few seconds and he’d had his pack rain cover on. He was relieved he’d put his phone and battery in a ziplock bag. His sleeping bag was wrapped in a garbage bag, so it was fine too. But the pack itself and some of his clothes were mildly damp.

“Hey, it looks like there’s a clearing over there,” Bucky said, “wait here.” He came back a couple minutes later. “Yep. And there's a fire pit. We can make a fire and get you all warm. I think we’re done for the day.”

He made Steve take his clothes off and get into his sleeping bag, sitting close to the fire. He sat there miserably while Bucky hung his clothes over various trees and then made their nightly ramen. 

He handed Steve his noodles, saw the look on Steve’s face and said, “It’s not that bad, Steve. Things get wet, it happens. It won’t be the last time. Hey, I got my shoes wet running in after you!” He laughed.

“You're slowing down because of me, Buck. I know you are. Just forget about me, go on ahead.” 

“Don't be so dramatic,” Bucky said, waving his hand dismissively and taking a big bite of his dinner.

“I mean it. I’m holding you back. I’m not worth it.”

Bucky sighed and put down his food. “Look, I’m not in any hurry. I don't mind. Really.”

Suddenly, Steve was angry. Why wouldn’t Bucky just listen to him? “You're just doing this because you think I'm going to keel over any second!”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No! I mean, at first I was concerned. Yeah, I'll admit that – seeing you with that huge pack. But then, I don’t know, I wanted to get to know you.”

He sounded so sincere. Steve's anger dissipated just as quickly as it had flared up. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “It’s okay, Steve.”

Steve felt bad. Bucky was only trying to help him. What was so wrong with that? He wished his mom was there to knock some sense into him. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“The reason I'm doing this…” 

Bucky nodded at him encouragingly. “Mmm?”

“I guess I’m doing it for my mom. She died recently.”

“Steve, I'm so sorry.”

“My dad hiked the trail when he was younger. He died when I was little. My mom always said she wanted to do it too, but she never got to. So that’s why I am. I'm doing it for her.”

“That's really sweet. I'm sure she'd be proud of you.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I hope so.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Bucky said. “I guess it's only fair I should tell you why I’m out here… even though I don’t really have a reason. And I’ll probably sound like a brat now, compared to you.”

“No you won’t. Tell me.”

“The truth is, I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I kept trying to figure it out, because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. But I still don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’ve always wanted to do this, I need to get it out of my system or something. Hiking is what I love to do, but I know I can’t do it forever…” he trailed off. “Maybe this will help me decide.”

Steve had always known he wanted to be an artist, even though he knew it wasn’t exactly a stable career choice, he had never wavered on that. So he couldn’t really relate to what Bucky was saying.

“My dad thinks I should join the army,” Bucky said.

“Oh. My friend Sam is in the army.” There was something about Bucky that made Steve think he would be good at being in the army, but at the same time, it didn’t suit him at all. 

“I don't want to,” Bucky said flatly. 

There was an awkward silence. “Well, you've got time to think about it,” Steve said.

Bucky laughed. “You probably think it's strange that I'm the ‘Winter Soldier’ and I don't want to be a soldier at all.” He shrugged. “I didn't come up with the name.”

“Everything will work out, Bucky. You’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. 

**Tennessee**

“Where to, Cap?”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

Bucky just grinned. It was a pleasant morning as they began their hike into Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Bucky startled Steve by breaking into song. He sang “Smoky Mountain Memories” and there was something hauntingly sad about it that Steve had never noticed before. Bucky had a beautiful voice, and Steve figured, of course he did, he was perpetually good at everything. However, as the morning progressed, Bucky’s singing died down, and when it started pouring with rain they only had the energy for trudging along in silence. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop any time soon, and Steve even saw streaks of lightning in the distance. 

Steve wasn’t usually faster than Bucky, and most of the time followed him, but all day he’d been ahead. He kept having to turn around to make sure Bucky was still there. “Come on, Buck,” he’d said encouragingly a few times. Then Bucky would pick up the pace for a little while but always ended up lagging behind. Finally, Steve turned back, starting to get really worried, and asked if Bucky was okay.

Bucky just grunted.

“Do you need something to eat?” Steve asked.

“No.”

“We need to pick up the pace,” Steve said.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and gave Steve a dirty look. “I need a break.”

“But it’s raining. There's no shelter. We need to just keep going.”

“Steve. I’m just having a low moment, okay? Christ.” He walked over to a soggy log and sat down.

Bucky stared down at the ground. Despite wearing the red baseball cap he always wore, it hadn’t done much to cover his face from the rain. Water dripped from the end of his nose. He looked miserable.

The trail was a lot more mentally taxing than Steve had expected, but this was the first time he had seen Bucky in low spirits. He’d grown used to him always being cheerful – he relied on it. Bucky had seemed so resilient. 

Steve walked over and sat down beside him. “Okay, we'll rest.” 

Bucky said nothing. 

Steve honestly felt like it was more uncomfortable to sit in soggy clothes like this than to just plow on, and a lot colder too, but he sat. After several moments passed, he spoke, “Bucky, it's okay. It'll be okay. The storm will pass. We’ll be dry again. We’ll have fun again. I'll definitely do something stupid, and you'll laugh at me.”

Bucky glanced at Steve but didn’t crack a smile. Steve put a hand over Bucky’s. His fingers were all pruned up. He took Bucky’s hands into both of his and tried to rub some warmth into them. 

When he looked up, Bucky had a strange look on his face. “Thanks, Steve.”

“For what?”

“Just... thanks.”

“Well, you're welcome. What are friends for?” he smiled, hoping to pull a grin from Bucky.

“Yeah,” he heard Bucky say as he stood up, letting Steve’s hands fall from his. He almost sounded disappointed.

♡

Despite being stuck sharing a shelter with an annoying guy named Tony, Bucky’s mood had improved by the time they went to bed. And when the mice came out, as they always did, just after they settled in to sleep, he didn’t even complain that much.

They hiked the entire next day in the rain until they reached the next shelter at about four in the afternoon. There were probably double the amount of people the shelter was supposed to hold all squashed in that night. Bucky made Steve sleep against the wall, so it was only Bucky he was next to. Steve didn’t really care who he was next to, but for some reason it was important to Bucky that Steve not be stuck with a stranger. He was aware Bucky felt a certain amount of protectiveness over him, and they sometimes squabbled about it, but he was too exhausted to argue that night, especially in front of other people. 

Bucky lay facing Steve with his back to the rest of the room, but he couldn’t shield Steve from the stink and the snoring. Steve had to admit, he appreciated the company in such a miserable situation. Bucky had made him a better hiker too. He couldn't help but feel like he was in his debt for that, though he knew Bucky wouldn't see it that way.

Steve did wonder if he would have made it this far without Bucky. Bucky pushed him when he needed it, helped him when he needed it, but also knew when Steve was pushing himself too much. And somehow knew how to handle Steve's stubbornness. It made Steve momentarily uncomfortable to know that he needed a stranger so much. But Bucky wasn't a stranger anymore. They were friends. 

He also appreciated the warmth of Bucky pressed up against him. “What time do you think it is?” he whispered. He knew Bucky was just as wide awake as he was, even though the room was pitch black.

“I dunno, but morning can’t come soon enough,” Bucky whispered back. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. “‘For a moment, nothing happened. Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen.’”

Steve giggled.

“Shhhh!” someone scolded from across the room.

That just made them laugh harder, though they tried their best to stifle it. It was absurd to single out their whispering considering the racket coming from multiple snorers. 

When Steve finally fell asleep, it was with a smile on his face.

♡

They had to share a shelter with a yellow blazer named Brock – or as he liked to be called, “Crossbones” (seriously) – who they kept running into. Bucky especially hated him because he littered all over the trail. They had even seen him do it with a beer can. Steve always felt compelled to pick it up, and then Bucky would bitch about it adding weight to his pack. “Probably doesn’t bury his shit either,” Bucky had grumbled.

But there was also a nice girl there named Wanda. She had travelled all the way from Europe to hike the trail. Brock kept hitting on her, and she kept shutting him down with a sharp tongue, which Steve very much enjoyed watching. 

After Brock had given up on Wanda, he proceeded to fall asleep and snore obnoxiously, only interrupted by even worse farting. This caused Bucky to gag dramatically and made Steve and Wanda giggle like kids. 

They walked with Wanda for a few days – they snuck off while Brock was in the privy, which Steve felt kind of guilty about, even though he didn't like him – until they decided to take a zero day and she kept hiking. 

They later found out Crossbones had to drop out due to a nasty case of giardia. Bucky said he was not surprised.

♡

They hitched a ride with a guy called Rhodey into Gatlinburg, where they planned to stay for two nights. Steve had been trying to get over a mild cold, and Bucky said he was going to sleep all day. They had taken to sharing rooms when they stayed in hotels, to save money. This was especially necessary for two nights in Gatlinburg where everything seemed to be overpriced. Steve couldn't understand wasting the day away in bed though. Gatlinburg was a tourist attraction and he wanted to explore a little. But he left Bucky to sleep, and after eating a ridiculously large stack of pancakes, he went in search of a barber. He desperately needed a haircut. His hair was driving him crazy.

When Steve returned to their room after lunch, Bucky was still in bed, but he was definitely not sleeping. He was lying on his back, with his eyes closed, but his hand was moving vigorously under the blankets, he was panting and a desperate whining noise escaped his throat.

Steve quickly shut the door, hoping he had done it quietly enough to not bring to Bucky's attention what had just happened.

He stood outside the door, shocked. He felt his own dick stir. He hadn't jerked off once during his journey – it was difficult to feel interested in that when he felt dirty, gross and completely exhausted. He hadn't even had a hint of an erection in weeks. He would have actually been relieved to know it could still happen if it wasn’t so inconvenient in that moment. Well, he couldn't do anything about it now, but he did resolve to jerk off in the shower that night.

He forced his body to calm down, then went back out again. He spent about an hour browsing the tourist stores without buying anything. Then he walked past a movie theatre and decided to spend the rest of the afternoon there.

At about five o’clock he finally went back to the room. Bucky was lounging on the bed watching TV when he cautiously opened to door. “Where have you been?” he asked.

“I went to the movies,” Steve said.

“Without me?” He looked disappointed. 

“Sorry,” Steve said. “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

Bucky perked up at that. “Sure!”

“Okay, I’m going to take a shower first.”

Bucky nodded and turned back to the TV.

Steve shut the door to the bathroom and locked it. Then he got undressed, and when the water was warm enough, stepped under the shower spray.

He thought he might not be able to do it with Bucky in just the other room, but he was hard almost instantly. As he wrapped his hand around himself, he wasn't really thinking about much at all, just that he desperately needed release and it felt good. He had only been jerking himself for a couple of minutes when he felt his orgasm approaching. The vision of Bucky that morning fleetingly crossed his mind, and then he was coming. He'd forgotten he was trying to be quiet and let out a moan. He leaned against the tiles, breathing heavily as he recovered. 

Bucky only glanced at him when he emerged from the bathroom. If he’d heard Steve in the shower, he didn’t show it. But then he wouldn’t, he was kind like that. 

Bucky had obviously had a shower that afternoon too. He was clean shaven – he always shaved when he got the chance, unlike most thru-hikers who let their beards grow long. Steve did too, though his didn’t grow nearly as thick and fast as Bucky’s did. He looked good, and Steve wished he was as handsome.

When Steve was ready, they walked to a nearby steakhouse. When they walked in the door, Bucky made Steve jump by suddenly yelling, “Nat!” He ran over to the bar and engulfed a striking red headed woman in a hug.

Steve walked over and awkwardly stood beside the pair. When Bucky pulled away. He saw Steve and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him closer. “This is my friend Steve,” he said.

“Hi, I’m Natasha,” she said.

“Pleased to meet you,” Steve said, though that wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t been prepared to socialise with anyone else. He’d thought it was just going to be him and Bucky. 

“This is my friend Sharon,” Natasha said, gesturing to a pretty blonde woman sitting on the barstool beside her. 

“Hi,” Steve and Bucky said in unison.

Bucky turned his attention back to Natasha. “Are you hiking the AT?”

“Just for a few days.” Natasha explained that she was trying to get Sharon into hiking, so they were doing a few days on part of the AT that went through the Smokies. 

“I'm very new to this,” Sharon said with a laugh.

“Me too,” Steve agreed eagerly.

“What are you talking about?” said Bucky. “You’re an experienced hiker now.”

“Well, I was a beginner... when I started, I mean.” Of course he had to be especially awkward in front of Bucky’s gorgeous friends. Again, he wished it was just him and Bucky.

“Do you want to get a table with us?” Bucky asked them.

“Sure.”

Resigning himself to having to socialise with Bucky’s friends, Steve tried to redeem himself by holding out a chair for Sharon to sit down. She smiled at him. She really was pretty.

“We’re headed back tomorrow,” Steve said. “You should come with us.” He smiled back at Sharon in a way he hoped was friendly.

“We’re going southbound kid,” said Natasha.

“He’s not a kid,” Bucky responded, before Steve even had the chance.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s just an expression.”

Bucky then looked between Steve and Sharon and his whole face changed. His mood seemed to change after that too, and he mostly just grunted when anyone asked him a question. Steve ignored him for the most part. He’d gotten over his awkwardness and was having a conversation with Sharon about art. He was enjoying himself, talking with a beautiful woman, and her seeming to enjoy his company too – that didn’t happen very often and he wasn’t going to let Bucky ruin it. 

However, when they’d finished their meals Steve was glad to leave. As much as he liked talking to Sharon, he was more concerned with why Bucky was acting so weird.

They walked back to the hotel in silence. Once they were in their room, Steve spoke up. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Bucky said bitterly.

“You were being really rude at dinner.”

“I’m just tired.”

“You slept all day!” he said incredulously. He thought back to Bucky’s hand working underneath his blankets and felt his cheeks turning warm. 

“Well, what else did I have to do? You went off alone. You could have texted me and said you were at the movies. I would have come if you asked.”

“I… you said you wanted to sleep all day! I was just trying to give you some space.”

“Whatever,” Bucky said as he strolled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

♡

At breakfast the next morning, Bucky apologised. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk last night. I… maybe I really did need more sleep. I don’t know. I was just being a jerk for no reason. Forgive me?”

“Of course,” Steve said, his residual anger immediately softening. “And I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the movie.”

Bucky waved his hand. “It’s fine. You don’t have to spend all your time with me. I understand if you want to be alone sometimes.”

The thing was, Steve _liked_ spending all his time with Bucky. “Next time, we’ll go to the movies together,” he said.

Bucky smiled. “Cool.”

After a few hours back on the trail, they decided to rest for a while and have a snack. They put their packs down and sat on a nice flat rock, budding leaves surrounding them. Bucky ate a Little Debbie in about two bites while Steve chewed on a Snickers. 

“How do you know Natasha?” Steve asked.

“We met a few years ago. We went hiking together a lot. Before we broke up.”

“You dated?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you break up?”

He shrugged. “It wasn't serious.”

It seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it so Steve changed the subject. “Sharon's pretty.”

Bucky made a face. “I guess. But she's kind of annoying.”

“Why? She seemed really nice to me.”

“She just is.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Bucky stared at Steve for a moment, then stood up and declared, “I’m going to take a dump.” He opened his pack, picked up his roll of toilet paper, and sauntered off. 

Steve watched him go and wondered why he’d been acting so odd. Maybe he still had feelings for Natasha and was just jealous she was going hiking with Sharon instead of him? Steve didn’t want to get into another argument though, so he decided he wouldn’t mention either Natasha or Sharon again.

♡

“I wanted to try dating men,” Bucky said abruptly, turning around to face Steve.

Steve almost walked right into him. “Excuse me?”

“ _Me-en_.”

“You're gay?”

“Bisexual… do you have a problem with that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No! Of course not,” Steve said.

Bucky seemed to be studying his face. Steve looked away, feeling awkward under the scrutiny. He hoped Bucky didn’t think he wasn’t making eye contact because he had a problem with Bucky’s sexuality. He didn’t, but he did feel funny about the conversation.

“Anyway, that’s why me and Nat broke up,” Bucky said, turning back around and picking up the pace again.

“I haven't dated a lot,” Steve said, after a while. He was glad Bucky had his back to him. “I've only been in one serious relationship,” he admitted. 

“There's nothing wrong with that,” Bucky said. “You sound embarrassed. You shouldn't be.”

Bucky seemed like the kind of guy who had dated a lot of people – he was friendly and good looking, he probably never in his life had trouble getting a date. Steve had prepared himself for judgement over his lack of experience, but he should have known Bucky would be kind about it. “Her name’s Peggy,” he said. “We’re still good friends, but she was always so busy with work. She has a really important job. It didn’t work out.”

“That’s too bad,” he heard Bucky say quietly. He thought he heard him say something else, but couldn't be sure.

“Huh?” he said.

“Nothing,” Bucky replied.

♡

“Goddamn rain.”

Bucky was lagging behind again. That seemed to be his habit whenever it rained, while Steve plodded on ahead. Steve just hoped he wouldn’t get into a mood like the last time the weather was this bad. He was surprised when he heard Bucky start singing. It was another Dolly Parton song. He'd been singing a lot of Dolly Parton ever since they entered Tennessee. 

“ _Oh sometimes the road is rugged, and it's hard to travel on  
But holdin' to each other, we don't have to walk alone…_ ”

Steve looked back at Bucky and watched as he hummed along to himself, his eyes trained to the ground. He felt very fond of Bucky in that moment and found himself smiling like an idiot before he remembered where he was and started walking again.

The weather had calmed down quite a lot by the time they reached the next shelter, which they had hoped to stay in that night due to the rain. 

It was full.

“I bet they’re not all thru-hikers,” Bucky grumbled.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve said, getting his tent out. “It’s probably full of mice and roaches anyway.”

“You should just share with me tonight,” Bucky said. “My tent has room enough for two, and it’ll be a lot warmer.”

Steve shrugged. “Okay.”

They quickly set up the tent and took their wet clothes off. Bucky took them to hang in the shelter, hoping they would dry there. Steve’s camp clothes were a bit damp too though, so he climbed into his sleeping bag with just his underwear on.

“Ugh, I stink,” Steve said when Bucky came back. He always felt grosser when he wasn’t dry. 

“You smell pretty sweet to me.”

“Very funny.”

“No really, you're not bad. I'm pretty sure I smell worse than you do.”

Steve shook his head. “No way.”

“Maybe we're just used to each other now. That's handy if we're gonna be sharing a tent.”

“It's just for tonight,” Steve said.

Bucky winked at him, and Steve rolled his eyes. They ate a cold meal of tuna, crackers, and a granola bar that Steve had a hard time swallowing down, even though he was hungry. He was sick of the same thing all the time. Then they settled in for the night. Bucky was asleep instantly.

The sound of the rain on the tent and Bucky’s light snoring gave Steve a cosy feeling, and he snuggled down into his sleeping bag. It was still quite early, and Steve found himself watching Bucky sleeping in the soft, grey light that filtered into the tent. He was on his back with his mouth slightly open, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Steve normally couldn’t stand sharing rooms with snorers, but Bucky’s snores were quiet and rhythmic enough to not be annoying. They sounded... safe. Steady. Steve liked it, and after a while, he drifted off too. 

He woke up the next morning with a hard-on. Although he was pressed quite close to Bucky’s side, he was curled into a ball, so luckily Bucky couldn’t tell. He was just lying there, reading his stupid book again – a tattered old copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. Every time he'd finish reading it he went right back to the start. He was absorbed in it. Could Steve escape without Bucky noticing? But what if someone outside saw? He willed it to go away.

He shuffled his legs, and Bucky noticed he was awake. “Morning, sleepyhead.” It was usually Steve who woke up first, prodding Bucky to get up while he grumbled. “Ready to get up?”

“In a minute,” Steve said.

He nodded. “I’ll put the coffee on.” He marked his page by folding down a corner – something that made Steve cringe – and crawled out of the tent. Steve briefly thought about getting himself off but decided dealing with the mess, and the threat of being caught, wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t sure why after the weeks of nothing on the first part of the trail he had a sex drive again. It must've had something to do with him walking in on Bucky that day. His mind often wandered back to it without meaning to. It had to be a manifestation of his guilt or something… something he couldn’t quite place. 

He thought about unsexy things until he was sufficiently flaccid, then crawled out of the tent to join Bucky for breakfast.

♡

They had started sharing Bucky’s tent more nights than not. Steve had to admit, it was a lot toastier than when he slept alone. He wasn’t sure why they hadn't started doing it sooner.

“You should just send your tent home,” Bucky said as they ate their oatmeal one morning. “You’ll have less to carry, and what’s the point if you don't need it?”

“But I might want it again when it gets warmer,” Steve said.

“It'll probably be too stuffy.”

“And it won't be stuffy with both of us squished in your tent together?”

“It's an excellent tent, you know. Good ventilation.”

Steve shook his head with fond exasperation. “Whatever, I'm keeping my tent.”

♡

The hostel in Erwin was full when Steve and Bucky arrived, so they decided to splurge and get a motel room in town. They needed to pick up mail there anyway, and they were ready for showers, even prioritising that over food. Once they were clean, they walked to the grocery store, deciding that after spending their money on the room, it would be cheaper than going out to a restaurant.

They bought a lot of food. Their room had two beds, but they sat down on one and spread everything out. They had a loaf of bread, ham, and mayonnaise for sandwiches, and packets of chips, cookies and some ice cream. There was also a bag of oranges that Steve insisted they get to prevent them from getting scurvy – they hadn’t been eating enough fruit and vegetables. 

For some reason, Bucky thought that was hilarious. “Scurvy? Like pirates? Arrr, me scurvy mates!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, Steve, what did the pirate say when his wooden leg got stuck in the freezer?” 

Steve ignored him as he opened a bag of chips. 

“Shiver me timbers!” He laughed uproariously at his own joke. Steve put the bag of chips in front of his mouth to hide his smile. 

“Damn, we should have got Chips Ahoy cookies instead of these shitty Keebler ones,” Bucky said as he pulled the cookies out of the shopping bag.

“You said you like them better!” 

“But I can’t make pirate jokes with these,” he said. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Good,” Steve said. “Can we make the sandwiches now, please?”

After Steve had made his sandwich with an adequate amount of mayonnaise, he watched as Bucky spread a layer of it about an inch thick onto his pieces of bread. He then he did the most disgusting thing Steve had ever seen. He dipped his spoon into the jar and shoved a heaping spoonful into his mouth.

“Gross!” Steve said. “I know you’re hungry, but jeez.”

“No, it’s so good,” he said, showing Steve the contents of his mouth.

Before he knew what was happening, Bucky had dipped the spoon back into the jar and shoved it into Steve’s mouth. He sputtered but luckily managed to swallow it down without choking or spitting it everywhere. “Bucky!” 

Bucky laughed and ate another spoonful. 

“You are so weird,” Steve said. 

After they’d eaten – Bucky literally had three quarters of the jar of mayonnaise – they lay on the bed with distended stomachs. Bucky belched loudly, and Steve did too, so comfortable in that moment that he let his manners slide. 

“I can’t move,” Bucky groaned.

Steve couldn’t even be bothered opening his mouth to reply. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. Then he was asleep.

He woke the next morning with his back pressed against Bucky’s chest. He must have grown used to sleeping so close to him, though they usually had sleeping bags between them. 

He rolled away, but Bucky make a snuffling sound and shuffled closer. His morning wood poked into Steve's leg. Steve felt his own dick perking up. _Not again_. He wished he could go back to having no libido like the first month or so of the trip. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Too much fresh air maybe.

He quietly slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. He quickly got himself off in the shower, then went in search of breakfast, leaving Bucky to sleep.

When he came back, he noisily entered the room, hoping to alert Bucky to his entrance. He didn’t want a repeat of that moment in Gatlinburg. Bucky was sitting on his bed, freshly showered, his wet hair dripping down onto his clean grey t-shirt. “Mornin’,” he said.

Steve had bought a dozen donuts, and they ate all of them. Then they ate the leftover oranges they hadn’t eaten the night before. They packed up all their new supplies, then they checked out. Steve momentarily wished they were staying another night, but then his mind was back on the trail.

♡

“I saved something for you,” Bucky said, a few days later, as they took a break near a spring.

He opened his pack, fished around for something, and pulled out an orange. He handed it to Steve. “Happy birthday.”

Steve took it gingerly. He was speechless. In that moment he couldn’t think of ever receiving a better gift. Bucky was smiling at him, looking pretty pleased with himself.

“Thank you,” Steve said finally. “But it’s not my birthday.”

Bucky shrugged. “Early birthday present? Or late birthday present?”

“Early,” Steve said. Bucky had been trying to get Steve to tell him when his birthday was for weeks, but Steve refused. Bucky had admitted to Steve that he’d had his birthday two days after he started the trail. He’d celebrated it with his family beforehand but Steve still felt bad he’d spent the actual day all alone. He didn’t want Bucky to make a big deal out of his birthday for that reason, though it seemed he already was. Plus, Steve had the feeling if Bucky found out Steve’s birthday was on the fourth of July then he would never stop laughing at him. 

“We’ll share it,” he said. It was a little squashed, but still good. Bucky held out his trash bag as Steve peeled the skin into it. 

Then one by one he broke off the segments, alternately handing a piece to Bucky and eating one himself. The sweet juice burst in his mouth and he didn’t think anything had ever tasted more delicious. 

As he went to hand Bucky his last piece, instead of offering his hand out, Bucky ducked down and got it with his mouth.

Steve laughed. Bucky’s lips left a tingling feeling on his fingers. 

**Virginia**

They stopped at McAfee Knob for their obligatory photographs. They had the place to themselves, and for once, Steve didn't put up a fight about Bucky making him pose for a million pictures. Something he’d noticed over the past couple of months was that, where he liked to take photos of scenery, Bucky always took photos of people. In particular, he took a lot of Steve. Steve wondered if he did it just to annoy him – he hated having his photo taken – but then he realised it was just Bucky’s way of capturing memories. 

“Now sit down with your legs hanging over the edge, and look out at the view,” Bucky instructed. Steve rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Then they switched places and he followed Bucky’s directions as he took a photo of him from every angle imaginable.

When Bucky was finally satisfied with his Instagram worthy shot, and they’d had one last look at the view, they headed back to the trail. 

“Hang on,” Steve said, “I've gotta…” he gestured at the trees. He'd stopped saying ‘use the bathroom’ because Bucky laughed at him every time he did, but he couldn't bring himself to say ‘take a leak’, as Bucky did, either. His mom had brought him up with very polite manners about that sort of thing.

“Me too,” Bucky said, and followed Steve into the trees.

They'd peed together plenty of times, but suddenly Steve felt shy about it. He wanted to tell Bucky he needed privacy, but although he knew Bucky would respect that, he was also too embarrassed to call attention to it. So he stayed silent.

He couldn't help but glance out of the corner of his eye as Bucky pulled out his dick. He quickly looked away and turned slightly from Bucky as he relieved himself. He could tell he was blushing but didn't know why he was being so weird about it. The image of Bucky in the hotel room in Gatlinburg came into his mind, but he pushed it away, as he had to do more and more frequently.

♡

It had been a drizzly day, and they had planned to stay at a shelter, but when they got there, there was a group of people drinking and smoking weed – not their thing – so they decided to keep walking and stealth camp further along.

Steve had one of his worst nights that night. They’d stopped in a town that day for lunch after hearing of an ‘all you can eat’ restaurant and now, all that food had caught up to him. He’d never had a strong stomach, but he’d been so hungry. He should have known better. 

He woke with a horrible pain in his gut. He had taken all his clothes off before going to sleep because they were damp so he crawled out of his sleeping bag naked and grabbed his headlamp. As he scrambled out of the tent in a hurry, he accidentally woke Bucky. 

"Steve?" he asked groggily.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“No!”

“Do you have a flashlight?”

“Yes, I've got it. I've gotta go.”

He ran through the trees stark naked. He held the headlamp in his hand and aimed it at the ground, doing little to light his way as the light wobbled over the sticks and leaves. He hoped he wouldn't stand on anything injurious in his bare feet – or trip on anything and break his neck. When he figured he'd gone far enough from their camp and couldn't hold it in any longer, he squated. Afterwards, he realised in his haste he hadn't brought any toilet paper. He found a stick to dig a hole and pushed his waste into it. Then he waddled back to the tent. He’d intended to retrieve some toilet paper only because he hadn't had it with him, but by the time he got back to the tent he actually needed to go again.

And so it went for the rest of the night. 

In the morning, he woke with something cool on his head. It was Bucky’s buff which had been soaked in water.

“Are you feeling better?” Bucky asked, peering down at him. He looked worried. He’d been up most of the night too, forcing Steve to drink water so he wouldn’t get dehydrated.

Steve groaned. His belly felt a little sensitive but the pain was gone. He nodded. “I don’t think it’s noro. I just went overboard with the food yesterday.” 

Bucky handed him half a poptart. “Can you eat this?”

Steve took it and nibbled on it slowly. He was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. He smiled, and Bucky smiled back, looking relieved. He readjusted the buff on Steve's head.

“We’ll take it easy this morning. You should get some more sleep.”

As he exited the tent, Steve called him back. “Thank you, Buck.”

“What are friends for,” he said, echoing the words Steve had used when Bucky had been feeling down in the Smokies. Again, Steve thought he detected a hint of sadness in his voice.

♡

After they got their permits at the entrance to Shenandoah National Park, their first priority was finding food. They had an early dinner at one of the waysides and gorged themselves on cheeseburgers and apple pie with blackberry ice cream – well, Bucky did. Steve was careful not to overdo it. Then they sat nursing a couple of beers in companionable silence.

“Anything else?” asked their waitress, only looking at Bucky. She was curvy, with curly red hair tied in a knot at the top of her head, and Steve had noticed them eyeing each other the whole evening.

“Nah, we’re fine,” Bucky said, showing her the half glass of beer that was still remaining. 

“Okay, well, let me know if you need anything.”

“We will.” He grinned at her, and her blush was particularly obvious on her fair skin.

“You should go talk to her, if you’re interested,” Steve said, when she’d gone. “Or I could leave.”

“No,” Bucky said, and laughed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No, not at all. I just thought you liked her… never mind.”

Bucky looked at Steve thoughtfully. “I’d rather hang out with you,” he said eventually.

Steve was surprised at how glad he was about that. He even felt a little thrill of triumph as he walked past the waitress on their way out.

♡

Most of their time in Virginia had been rainy, but it seemed to have finally cleared up. They’d had several days of brilliant sunshine. “Let's cowboy camp tonight, Buck,” Steve said. “It's warm enough.”

Bucky looked up at the sky. “Okay, are you ready to stop for the day?”

“Let’s keep going, until we find a good spot.”

They walked for another mile and found a place to sleep not too far from a nice water source. As soon as they had set their packs down, Bucky took his shirt off. He'd taken to doing this every night and asking Steve to check his back for ticks. He never had any, which wasn’t a surprise to Steve considering he religiously and liberally sprayed himself with bug spray every morning. This time, he kept his shirt off as he wandered around collecting water and hanging their bear bags. 

Steve couldn’t help admiring the muscles in Bucky’s back as he worked. Steve was still incredibly skinny – more so in fact – but he had actually gained some muscle over the course of his journey, though nothing like what Bucky had; he’d obviously been very fit before. Steve thought he might ask him for some advice on how to retain his physique when the trip was over, but when Bucky caught him staring, he turned away in embarrassment. 

The setting sun turned everything golden and radiant, and moments like this always made up for every bit of discomfort Steve had had on the trail. He felt thoroughly content as he sat on a log next to Bucky. His dinner of ‘cajun rice’ even tasted good. 

It had been a good decision to sleep without their tents. It was a particularly clear night, and the stars were vivid and bright. They lay in their sleeping bags side by side, staring up at the sky, not ready for sleep when there was so much to see.

“Look!” said Bucky.

“What?”

“That was a UFO.”

Steve exaggerated a sigh. “Of course it was.”

“It definitely was. We’ll probably be abducted tonight.”

“Well, at least you’ll be there too. You can communicate with the aliens for me.”

“I can?”

“Don’t try and tell me you can’t speak alien. I won’t believe it.”

Bucky laughed quietly. “You know me too well.”

Steve didn’t say anything else and Bucky went quiet too. Steve realised that because he’d buddied up with Bucky, he’d done a lot less thinking about his mom than he’d expected to. He wasn’t sure if he should feel guilty about that or not. 

But he felt happy. He hadn’t really felt happy in a long time. Wasn’t that what he should be getting out of the experience? He knew she would want that for him. He thought about her up there watching him. He wondered if she would be glad he’d made friends with Bucky. If she would like him too. He decided she would.

♡

When they reached Dicks Dome Shelter, there were already two people there, hanging out at the picnic table.

“Hey,” said Bucky. “How’s it going? I’m Winter Soldier and this is Captain America.”

“No it isn’t! Stop calling me that. It’s Steve,” he told them. “And his name is Bucky.”

Bucky smiled mischievously. “Bucky is just as cool a name as Winter Soldier, I’m fine with either.”

The shorter, dark haired one laughed. “Captain America, huh? That’s not as bad as Ant-Man.”

“Ant-Man?”

“Don’t ask,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You can call me Scott. This is Clint, or Hawkeye.” He turned to the other man and started using sign language.

“Oh,” said Steve. He signed ‘Hello, my name is Steve’ to Clint. “Sorry, that’s all I know.”

Clint signed something else and Scott translated, “He says he appreciates it.”

“The shelter’s pretty small, huh?” Bucky said, gesturing to it. 

“It’s meant to fit four, you can share with us,” Scott said.

“That’s okay. We’ll just sleep in our tent.”

Scott shrugged. “Okay.”

As he set up the tent, Bucky told Scott and Clint how he and Steve had met at the start of the trail in Georgia and had been hiking together ever since. Steve left him there to go and collect water. 

One of the first things they always did when they reached camp was take their trail runners off, and rinse off their feet, to at least try and keep them clean and healthy. Luckily, neither of them had gotten any blisters so far. On that day, Steve was particularly glad to get his shoes off. When he was back at the shelter, he lay down on the platform in front of it and groaned.

“My feet really hurt today. I mean, they always hurt, but today especially. I don't know why.”

“Want some Vitamin I?” Bucky asked.

“Nah.”

“I'll give you a foot rub.”

“What? No way, they stink.”

“Come on, I don't care. We both stink. Everyone here stinks. We’re all stinky hiker trash. I barely notice it anymore.” Bucky lifted Steve’s legs, sat down, then laid them across his lap. Steve didn’t dissuade him as he began massaging his feet.

As he watched Bucky press his thumbs along the soles of his feet, he noticed that he needed to cut his toenails, though Bucky didn’t say anything about it. He lay back and let himself relax. It felt good. 

He glanced over to the picnic table and saw Clint watching. He raised an eyebrow at Steve and Steve felt a blush crawling up his cheeks. He pulled his legs away from Bucky and sat up.

“Is that enough?” Bucky asked, looking confused.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Do they feel better?”

“Yes,” Steve said, a little shortly.

“Okay.”

Just then, a distraction arrived in the form of a hiker who introduced himself as Black Panther. He was quite a striking person, and straight away, Bucky was shamelessly flirting with him. Touching his arm, his shoulder. Hanging on to his every word and laughing too hard at what he said. This garnered even more eyebrow raises from Clint. Steve knew Bucky could make friends with anyone, but this was definitely more than that. Bucky was clearly in a peculiar mood that evening, and watching him flirt like an idiot made Steve feel out of sorts too. 

He wandered over to look at the register. Despite feeling somewhat annoyed with Bucky, he smiled when he saw that Bucky had already written in it:

_The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow, if I can. – J.R.R. Tolkien ___

He looked back over to where Bucky was exaggeratedly exclaiming over some fancy equipment Black Panther was showing him. He may be a weirdo, Steve thought, but he was glad he’d met him. At that moment, Bucky turned and looked at Steve with an expression Steve struggled to decipher. But it made him feel strange, and he looked away. 

He walked back to the picnic table and sat with Scott and Clint. Clint signed something to Scott and Scott asked Steve, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Clint’s response to that was another eyebrow raise.

“Hey,” Steve said, changing the subject, “can you guys teach me some more signs?”

He learned ‘What’s up?’, ‘How are you?’, ‘Nice to meet you’, ‘See you later’ and ‘Goodbye’.

He hadn’t noticed when Bucky and Black Panther had walked over until they asked how to sign their names. Bucky also wanted to know how to sign ‘Captain America’, which Clint showed him with glee. 

Bucky kept signing it to Steve throughout the evening, saying he was ‘practicing’, and Steve found he didn’t really mind.

♡

Bucky flung himself down onto a bed of wildflowers. “ _Ah_.”

Steve unclipped his pack and sank down beside him, glad to take a break.

“Here, look at this one,” Bucky said. He picked a flower and handed it to Steve. Every day he tried to point out interesting flora to Steve, knowing Steve liked to take photos or sketch them. Steve took the flower and laid it on his thigh as he wrestled his sketchpad out of his pack.

His pencil hesitated over the paper. He glanced at Bucky who had his eyes closed, the light shining off his cheekbones. His lips were slightly upturned at the corners. And it almost seemed like his face was reaching toward the sun. Steve’s hand twitched, he suddenly had the urge to draw Bucky instead. He raised his knees and lifted the sketchpad up so Bucky wouldn’t be able to see if he looked over, and outlined Bucky’s profile, focusing a little extra time on his eyebrows and lips. Then he turned to a new page and quickly sketched the flower. 

Bucky sighed and opened his eyes just as steve was finishing. “Let’s see,” he said.

Steve turned the sketchpad to show him and he smiled approvingly. “Pretty.”

Steve felt a little guilty about drawing Bucky without his permission, but for some reason the thought of asking him made him feel anxious. Like asking was sharing something too personal, which didn’t make any sense, but that's how he felt. 

Bucky sat up then and dug out his phone. “Selfie,” he said, and leaned over and aimed the screen towards their faces. He took the photo before Steve was ready. He looked surprised and ridiculous, while Bucky looked relaxed and charming.

“Delete it,” said Steve.

“No way.”

“Please, Buck. I look awful.”

“You do not. I love it. I’m keeping this photo forever.”

Steve thought he couldn’t complain too much, since he was probably going to keep the sketch he’d done of Bucky forever too. 

**West Virginia**

The weather was pleasant as they walked towards Harper’s Ferry. It was warm, but not too warm, and when steve worked up a sweat a nice breeze cooled his face. Birds chirped cheerfully. The trail led them right into the small town, and they got their photo taken – reluctantly, on Steve’s part – at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy’s headquarters. 

As a celebration for almost making it halfway, they had planned to refresh in a motel for the night. But first, they picked up their mail drops from the post office. They had sent ahead some clean town clothes and food. Also waiting for Steve was a package from Sam. He laughed at the ‘I ❤ NY’ t-shirt and apple flavored candy. He buried his face in the soft fabric and breathed in the clean scent. It occurred to him that if he was alone, it might have made him feel sad. But he hadn't felt lonely or homesick the whole trip. He hadn't once felt like he didn't want to be there, even on the bad days. And he knew it was because of Bucky. 

“You have the first shower, Buck,” Steve said when they were in their room. “You always let me go first. You go first for once.”

“Okay, then I’ll go and do the laundry while you’re having yours,” Bucky said.

“No, that’s not the point. Wait for me to help you.”

“Okay,” he said, but Steve could tell he wouldn’t.

When Bucky emerged from the bathroom, Steve saw that he’d shaved and he looked good, though Steve had grown used to seeing him with stubble. He seemed more... Bucky that way. Without his hat on, Steve could see that his hair had grown longer since they met, but the look suited him. 

Steve had a quick shower. When he got out he wiped at the fogged up mirror so he could shave as well. He examined his body. He’d never looked like this before. Aside from a bruise on his side – he’d walked into a branch the previous day – he looked pretty good. Healthy. He couldn’t help flexing his arms a bit. Then he hurried off to help Bucky with the laundry. 

As they walked to a nearby pizzeria for dinner, Bucky said, “So, you've made it over a thousand miles, how do you feel?”

Steve felt pretty proud of himself, but would it be conceited to say so? He finally settled on, “Happy.”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, me too.”

After they’d eaten, they headed back to their room for an early night. 

“Ah,” Steve said, as he sank into the mattress. “My back appreciates this very much.”

“Is it giving you trouble?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“I’ll give you a massage.”

“No, you don't have to do that.”

“Come on,” he urged.

Steve gave him a curious look. “Really?”

“Of course, turn over.”

He lay on his stomach and pillowed his head in his arms. As soon as Bucky’s hands were on his back, he felt better. He moaned appreciatively as Bucky’s fingers pressed into his shoulders, and then ran down his spine. 

His hands moved further and further down until they were skirting the waistband of Steve’s trousers. Goosebumps raised on Steve’s skin as Bucky’s fingers brushed the space where his t-shirt had ridden up. His hands lightly moved across Steve’s butt before he placed them on Steve’s sides.

“Should… should I stop?” he whispered.

Steve shook his head. He didn’t want Bucky to stop, even though his heart was racing, and a part of him felt like he had to escape. His dick was hardening.

Bucky’s fingers pressed down Steve’s sides, into the space between the sheets and his skin, then they moved down again to his waistband. They slipped underneath and he pressed into Steve’s pelvis. Steve’s whole body was hot and he gulped ridiculously. He couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips into the mattress. 

Bucky suddenly stopped. Steve froze, and after a minute, slowly rolled over. Bucky was staring at him with wide eyes.

Steve sat up and kissed him. He hadn’t realised up until that point that he wanted to. He really, really wanted to. He didn't know why it hadn’t occurred to him. He guessed it was because he’d never been attracted to a man before. But _of course_ he was attracted to Bucky. He’d never had such a moment of clarity. 

Bucky kissed him back tentatively. Then they were kissing desperately, and pulling at each other, trying to remove the other’s clothing. When they were naked, Steve lay down and pulled Bucky on top of him. Bucky stopped kissing him then, but Steve held his head close, not wanting him to stop. 

“Are you sure?” he whispered into Steve's lips.

“Yes.” Then he claimed Bucky’s lips again and hungrily pushed his tongue between them.

“God, I want you so bad,” Bucky said when he pulled away. 

He started kissing his way down Steve's torso. Steve gasped when Bucky took him in his mouth. He thrust up and Bucky backed off. “Sorry, sorry,” he said.

“Don't be sorry.” He took Steve back into his mouth with extra gusto. Steve instantly thrust up again, not meaning to, but it was reflexive. Bucky didn’t pull away though, he met Steve’s thrusts, in and out of his lips, and moaned around him. Just as Steve thought he was ready to burst, Bucky let Steve’s dick fall from his mouth and moved to kiss his thighs instead. Steve made a frustrated noise and could _feel_ Bucky’s smile against his skin.

He kissed his way back up Steve’s body until he reached his mouth and pushed his tongue in, wildly sweeping it around. Then he maneuvered his body so their dicks were aligned and began to thrust. 

“You feel so good,” he said into Steve’s ear. “Fuck.”

“Feels good,” was all Steve could manage to say.

“Steve,” he moaned.

“Yes,” Steve said, though he knew it hadn’t been a question.

Bucky slipped one arm underneath Steve's back and buried his face between Steve’s shoulder and neck. He thrust deliciously but also maddeningly slow. Steve wriggled his legs out so he could wrap them around Bucky’s waist and thrust back with more urgency.

He came so suddenly, he would have been embarrassed had Bucky not followed almost immediately after, with a strangled gasp.

They lay breathing heavily for a long time. Their bellies were a mess, and Steve could feel them practically sticking together. Bucky was heavy above him, but he liked it, and was disappointed when Bucky finally moved away. He went into the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth to wipe down their stomachs.

He threw the washcloth into the bathroom and climbed back onto the bed. He rested his head on Steve’s chest and sighed. After a moment, he spoke. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“Have I?” Steve said. He yawned.

“If you're freaking out about what we just did, _please_ stop.”

“I'm just thinking.” He put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and moved it around in small circles, hoping it would reassure him.

Bucky lifted his head to look at Steve’s face. “About what? What are you thinking about?”

“I was just thinking about taking your advice.”

He scrunched his forehead. “What advice?”

“I'm thinking about sending my tent home. It really is unnecessary to carry it around when I won't be using it.” He smirked.

Bucky guffawed and pushed himself up to press his lips to Steve's. They laughed as they kissed again and again.

 **Maryland**

**Pennsylvania**

**New Jersey**

**New York**

**Connecticut**

**Massachusetts**

**Vermont**

**New Hampshire**

**Maine**

It was the 23rd of September. 

Steve wobbled on the rocks. Bucky turned back and held out his hand. They approached the summit of Mount Katahdin hand in hand. 

Bucky wrapped Steve in hug. “We did it.”

A fellow hiker walked over to them and asked if they could take his photo with the AT sign.

“Congratulations,” Steve said, when he’d gotten a good picture. “Could you take one of us?” 

“Sure.”

He handed his phone over and they got into position. Bucky put his arm around him. “I'm proud of you,” he said, turning to face Steve. 

Steve was proud of himself too. He knew his mom would be, and his dad. It was all the sweeter that he had done it with Bucky, who he might have never met without the trail. He looked up to the cloudy sky and a rogue streak of sunlight fell across his face. He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> SEQUEL: [In a Bed of Wildflowers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9397868)
> 
> I'm [@lovesdresses](http://lovesdresses.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


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